The War: Not Won
by spider pie
Summary: Being a monarch is not an easy task, especially if you are the ruler of the former Irken Empire. Cowritten with Butterfly Stomper.


_Disclaimer: We do not own Invader Zim. They are the creations of Jhonen Vasquez. Although we wouldn't mindif he gave us Gir. _

_Note: It story is based on the made-for-TV movie that was never made. If you want to read the synopsis you can go to and look at the Invader Zim section. _

_Hope you enjoy._

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Prologue

Red sat tensely in the plush crimson chair of the Tallest, staring at the viewing window in the Control Room. His claws dug deep into the armrest, the only sign of his anxiety about the events unfolding before him. Loud, sharp shouts of his armada officials filled the area around him. Frantic orders to his pilots in the battle, connected through hundreds of intercoms. Red's voice was once part of this frenzy. But now he just sat still among the jumble of noise, silent in his singular seat.

His thoughts had turned away from the present, for the present became too much for his nerves to bear. Though his stare never swayed from the war outside his ship, his eyes didn't see the action. Red wasn't there… Red didn't want to be there.

He wished he was back on the Massive, his beloved home away from home. But Purple claimed that ship and wouldn't budge. _He_ was the one staying closer to Irk. _He_ was the one protecting the home front. So, _he_ should get the more powerful ship. That was Purple's reasoning. There wasn't enough time to argue so Red let him have their ship. His co-ruler could be so stubborn sometimes.

This was only the second time Red had been on the Rapid. Even though it was the second largest ship of the Armada, it was dwarfed by the ever impressive and powerful Massive. The smaller ship looked awkward, like an oversized arrow, and clashed with the rest of the Irken ships. The Tallest didn't like that. It was nothing compared to the brawny, in-your-face craftsmanship of their favored transport. But they needed it now to act as a mother ship for the front line. And Red was more of an expert at that then his partner.

"My Tallest! My Tallest! They've taken out our bombing divisions! All of them! Only a couple ships remain and they're damaged!"

Red shook out of anger and annoyance at his high-general's report. He turned sharply at him.

"THEN DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!" Red's voice caused the Irken to fall. "I'm tired hearing about defeat! Those inferiors are supposed to be loosing, not us! So why are we!" The high-general was speechless. "What gives you the right to give my soldiers wrong orders?"

"I was only giving them the orders you said…"

"Silence!" yelled the crimson Tallest as he leaned down glaring at the Irken. "I've had enough of you! Get out there and fight the war yourself. Maybe then you can get some better ideas in the thick of it." The high-general scrambled out from under Red, gave him a shaky salute and ran to the door. Although he could be going to face his death, it sure looked a lot better then facing an angry Tallest.

Red sat back in the single chair and flexed his hands, the officials staring at him in a fearful way. He was silent for a second before he turned to another general and spoke in a dangerously quiet tone.

"General…um, whatever-you-name-is, what do we have in the reserves?"

The Irken tried to swallow the lump in her throat. "Re-re-reserves, sir?" she stuttered. Red grinded his teeth.

"Yes," he growled. "what ships are left?"

"W-well, uh," she quickly tapped a few buttons on the information pad in her hand. A second later she looked at the numbers it offered as if she just dug her own grave. "w-we only have… o-one ship left, s-sir." Her quivering voice didn't help her situation.

"ONE!" Red exploded. He trembled in his anger and took a deep breath, trying to get a grip on himself. "Why isn't it being used?" he said quietly.

"Well, uh, because..." she hesitated. "we're in it, sir."

Red was silent, his chest moving with heavy, steady breaths. He stared at the general in a disbelieving stupor. His eyes were wide and deep and they bore a hole into their victim, the left one was twitching.

"What?" he whispered.

"Well, uh, my Tallest, this ship is perfectly capable of fighting. I mean, it has strong cannons, a fantastic record from when it was used and the way it maneuvers in battle is unprecedented." She talked fast, trying to convince her leader that the Rapid was a space-worthy ship. But Red's claws were coming closer and closer to her, wanting to let his anger out on her small neck. Sweating, the general was praying in her mind that she could settle the Tallest before she became his fury's scapegoat.

"It also has a nice food court." She squeaked. The hands stopped. Red glared at her ruthlessly, but ended his assault.

"OK." He breathed with thin control on his anger. "Just get it in that battle." The general nodded at once.

"Oh yes, right away sir. Just let me get the manual." And she sped off as quickly as she could. Red took a second to process that remark. That probably saved her skin. "WHAT!" He screamed at the entire population of the bridge. "WHY DO YOU NOT KNOW HOW TO CONTROL THIS STUPID-"

"Incoming transmission from the Massive, sir. It is on the high priority frequency." The techie that said that had a soda can thrown in his face.

"Alright!" said Red, feeling a bit better after he hit that Irken. "Put it up on the screen." A large monitor come down from the ceiling and connected with the message.

White noise filled the screen. Red squinted in confusion, trying to make out what was in the fizzing broadcast. There was something. Images dispersed and distorted by the noise. But soon, with all the Irkens focused on the screen, the message, in bits and pieces, came through.

"…….walls breeched……enemy….invading us…..Massive under heavy fire……..unknown weapon…..horrible……..many casualties…..Tallest…….killed….send help…..repeat, Tallest Purple has been killed….. please send….."

There was a commotion and the screen fizzed to black.

A silence. A deathly silence where no living being was moving. No one was talking. No one was breathing. Every eye, every antenna was turned toward the empty screen. They wanted something else, something to say it was a joke. That the Massive wasn't defeated, that Purple wasn't dead.

Red had not stirred. He wasn't listening to anything. Not the battle outside. Not the slow disorder coming over the bridge. He only stared blankly at the screen, drowning in the words that circled in his head. _Tallest Purple has been killed. Tallest Purple has been killed. _

"My Tallest? My Tallest."

He shook a little out of his trance and looked at the Irken beside him.

"Sir, the enemy is advancing. Our men are being slaughtered. What do we do?"

Red gazed back at the window to the outside. He saw the opposing army coming closer and closer to his last remaining ship. Their aqua-colored spacecrafts like blue, fiery torches in the void. He murmured something inaudible.

"What was that, sir?"

Red turned to the Irken with empty, dead eyes and whispered his final order.

"Retreat."


End file.
